5. The Worm Has Turned
I am Ren Drakemore, age 5, and I am the unwanted second prince of the kingdom of Arcadia. But one day, I will be King.
An Arc has passed since our trip to the market, where my eyes were opened to the corruption and suffering that plague my kingdom. That day marked a turning point for me. Since then, I've approached my studies and magical training with renewed purpose. No longer do I learn to pass the time. Now, I train with a goal, a lofty one.
I understand now that dangerous men, including my own father, would rather see me dead. The only thing keeping those wolves at bay is my father's fear of Lady Willow and the belief that I am not yet enough of a threat to warrant the risk of facing her. That protection feels very temporary. The certainty of its failure hangs over me like an executioner's sword, forever suspended above my neck, waiting to fall.
I must grow stronger.
I've begun watching the castle guards as they train in the courtyard each day from my tower window. My brother Charles often joins the sessions as part of his royal education, though it's clear he has little interest in the practice. He is easily distracted, complains often, and rarely completes drills with any real effort. I doubt he's learned much at all.
I, on the other hand, study their every move carefully. Armed with a shortened broom handle, I mimic the guards' stances, strikes, and blocks for hours each day. I swing my makeshift sword until my arm feels like it will fall off, but I persist. My life depends on it.
Lady Willow isn't teaching me offensive magic yet, fearing I might accidentally set fire to the castle. So instead, I focus on creating barriers, pushing myself to the point of exhaustion every day. The effort has paid off. My magical control and capacity have grown steadily. I can now enchant two puppets at once.
I even managed to design a small wooden bird puppet that can actually fly.
The workshop is littered with failed attempts, but I finally built one light enough to lift off. It is about the size of a hummingbird. It's fragile, but it flies. At first, I only wanted to see the world beyond my tower. Now, I recognize its potential as a silent scout, something that can slip past walls and windows to reveal what I cannot see myself.
Through Willow's lessons in military tactics, I've learned that battles are often won before a single blow is struck. Preparation, training, equipment, and even the choice of battlefield matter more than the bravery or skill of any one soldier. Information shapes all of it. And with this bird puppet, I may finally have a way to gather it.
In the last forty days, Lady Willow has continued making weekly potion deliveries to the apothecary without me. This has earned us a fair amount of coin and given me plenty of practice in potion-making. However, with the sheer volume we've crafted, our supply of medical herbs has run dry. Today, I'm leaving the castle with Lady Willow again, this time to gather more from the countryside.
And that brings us to now.
Lady Willow and I walk through the castle halls toward the courtyard. I keep the hood of my cloak pulled low and stay close to her side. After our last trip, I'm determined to keep a low profile.
When we reach the gate, a broad-shouldered man in gleaming plate armor steps out, blocking our path. He towers a full head taller than Lady Willow. I have to tilt my head back so far to see his face I nearly fall backward. A massive two-handed sword hangs at his hip. His chiseled jaw looks like it was carved from the same stone as the castle walls, and the weight of his icy blue gaze makes my spine stiffen.
I recognize him from watching the guards train each day. This is Sir Gavin, captain of the castle guard.
"Lady Willow, stop right there!" his deep voice booms, echoing through the stone corridor. "Where are you and the prince going?"
So much for keeping a low profile. This hood was useless.
"Hello, Captain Gavin," Lady Willow replies, betraying no sign of surprise. "The young master and I are traveling to Lord Griswald's domain at his invitation. Do you have some sort of objection to that?"
"I do, in fact," Gavin responds, eyeing her like a predator sizing up prey. His stance is imposing, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.
They lock eyes, their intense auras colliding. Lady Willow's serene confidence meets Gavin's cold intimidation, and the air grows heavy with tension.
"I will not allow the young prince to take one more step outside this castle," Gavin growls, his voice like thunder. Then he raises a massive arm over his head, as if preparing to strike.
My heart freezes, braced for the mountain of a man to bring it down.
Gavin's intense expression shifts into a wry smile as he lowers his hand, offering it to Willow.
"...Not without the proper protection," he finishes. "My duty is to protect the royal family, and I can't allow a member of the royal family to travel into the countryside without an escort."
"If you wish to join us, very well," Lady Willow says coolly, ignoring his hand and walking past him, with me close on her heels.
"If I'd known about this trip in advance," Gavin says, following us out the gate where a carriage awaits, "I could have arranged for a full escort. But since I'm here, it would be my honor to escort you myself, young master."
He hurries ahead of Willow to reach the carriage door, pulling it open and stepping aside with a broad, friendly smile. Willow doesn't spare him a glance, helping me into the carriage first before climbing in after me. I settle beside her, and she wraps an arm around my shoulders, gently pulling me closer.
When Gavin joins us, the carriage creaks under his considerable weight, tilting slightly as he takes the seat across from us. His cheerful demeanor seems to fill the small space, though the air remains tense.
He seems genuinely well-intentioned, but as captain of the guard, he answers directly to my father. And for that reason, I can't bring myself to trust him.
With a tap from Gavin on the carriage wall, the driver urged the horses forward. The wheels rattled against the cobblestone streets as the carriage moved through the bustling city. Homes, shops, and carts rushed by in a blur, and soon we are speeding along the northern road out of Cairndorn.
Despite the pleasant scenery outside, the atmosphere inside the carriage was stifling. Few words were exchanged during the journey, and I couldn't shake the weight of unease in Gavin's presence.
"So," Gavin says awkwardly after a long silence, his voice breaking through the quiet, "we're headed to Stonebrook to meet with Lord Griswald?"
"Yes," Lady Willow replies curtly. "Our first stop will be Lord Griswald's manor."
The trip to Stonebrook will take half a day, even at our brisk pace. I entertain myself by gazing out the window, taking in the breathtaking sights of the expansive valley surrounding the capital. This is my first time seeing the world beyond Cairndorn, and it's more beautiful than I imagined.
The flat valley stretches endlessly, ringed by distant mountains, with Cairndorn at its heart. Never before has the world felt so... big. Fresh air drifts through the carriage window, carrying a crisp, earthy scent, invigorating and new.
For a while, I'm captivated, but the gentle rhythm of the carriage soon lulls me into drowsiness. Before I know it, my head rests in Lady Willow's lap, her hand absently stroking my hair. The soothing motion carries me swiftly into sleep.
I hear Lady Willow's soft voice coaxing me awake.
"Ren, we've nearly arrived," she says.
I blink groggily and sit up to take in my surroundings.
The carriage is passing through a village, and I immediately notice how different it is from the commons of Cairndorn. The homes here are simple but well-built, with stone walls and terracotta roofs. The villagers look healthier and happier than the downtrodden faces I saw in the capital. There are no lines of desperate people waiting for aid, no visible signs of suffering. It feels as though this place is untouched by the corruption I witnessed in Cairndorn.
Why is this place, so close to the capital, so different?
Curious to see more, I reach into my pocket and pull out my small bird puppet. Folded into a ball, it fits neatly in my hand. I let my hand drift casually out the carriage window, the puppet resting in my palm. Glancing over to make sure Gavin isn't watching, I cast my spell.
The puppet springs to life. Its wooden wings unfurl and beat rapidly, launching it into the sky.
It rolls and spirals as it rockets upward, as if dancing with delight before vanishing from sight.
As we leave the village and approach Lord Griswald's manor, we pass farmland worked not by slaves, but by commoners.
While watching the wheat stalks drift by, something catches my attention. Large swaths of the crop appear withered and unhealthy, a stark contrast to the vibrant fields around them. Curiosity burns as I raise a hand to cover my left eye, focusing on my connection to the puppet that follows us from above.
A gasp escapes me as my vision shifts, merging with the bird's-eye view. From above, the farmland stretches out beneath me in intricate detail, revealing the full extent of the damage. It forms a wide ring of withered plants surrounded by healthy ones.
"Ren?" Lady Willow asks softly.
I lower my hand and blink, returning to my own perspective.
"Something's wrong with that field," I murmur.
Lady Willow's gaze flicks toward the farmland, her expression one of mild curiosity.
"Yes, I noticed as well," she says. "We're nearly at Griswald's manor," she adds.
Two guards lift the road barrier and wave us through a checkpoint at the edge of Griswald's estate. I lean out the window to get a better look at the lord's manor as we approach.
The building is large but modest in height, rising only two stories. Its rustic design blends stone and timber in a sturdy, well-crafted structure. Though clearly of higher quality and grander scale than the homes in the city, it lacks the gaudy excess and self-importance of noble estates in the capital.
At the base of a short staircase leading to the entrance, two well-dressed, cheerful servants wait to greet us. Captain Gavin hops out first, leaving the carriage door open for Lady Willow and me to exit.
"We are happy to welcome you to Lord Griswald's estate," the two female servants say in unison, bowing low.
As they rise, the half-elf steps forward with a warm smile. "I'm Aeris," she says, her hazel eyes bright beneath her black hair.
The wolfkin follows with a toothy grin. "And I'm Stephany," she adds, her eyes a bright yellow beneath a long mane of silver-grey fur. A bushy tail sways behind her, and she wears unusual sandals shaped to fit her paw-like feet.
Both gesture gracefully toward the entrance, inviting us inside.
"You are staring," Willow whispers as we pass them.
And I am. They're both beautiful, but what truly surprises me is how healthy and happy they seem. I don't see the usual metal slave collars. Instead, they wear thin, elegant bands of cloth embroidered with runic magic and what I assume is the Griswald family crest. Stephany's sharp teeth and claws still make me a little uneasy, but the warmth in her smile tempers it.
"Thank you kindly," Lady Willow says, her tone almost apologetic as she reaches down and gently closes my slack jaw.
Far from offended, Stephany seems amused by my stare and returns it with a wink.
"The master is expecting you. He wishes to meet you over dinner. Please, come inside and make yourselves comfortable. We will fetch the master shortly." Aeris says with a polite nod.
"Excellent!" Captain Gavin booms joyfully. "I could eat a horse!"
I don't doubt him. The man is the size of one.
"And it'll be nice to have someone to talk to," he adds with mock frustration, still clearly irritated by the long, silent trip.
The servants escort us inside the manor. The interior is stunning, elegant without the excessive opulence I've come to associate with nobility. Every detail, from the polished wood furniture to the understated but tasteful decorations, reflects a sense of practicality and refinement.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
We're led into a large dining hall dominated by a long wooden table that stretches through the center of the room. On either side, four beastkin and elf servants in maid uniforms greet us warmly as we enter, their demeanor genuine and friendly. They gesture for us to sit near the far end of the table, leaving the head seat conspicuously open.
"Thank you, ladies, but stop that—no need to bow," Lord Griswald says, waving dismissively at the servants as he crosses the room with purposeful strides. His voice is deep but warm, carrying an air of authority without arrogance.
He takes his place at the head of the table, glancing affectionately at his servants before turning to us and offering a nod. "Welcome to my home," he says, his sharp eyes lingering on me for a moment before shifting to Lady Willow and Captain Gavin. "I trust your journey was smooth?"
"Our journey was uneventful," Lady Willow answers as the servants begin placing plates and silverware before us.
"That's an understatement," Gavin mutters with an ironic grin, clearly in better spirits as a pretty, red-furred foxkin servant places a plate in front of him. She catches his smile and returns it with a playful wink. As she walks away, she runs a finger lightly across the back of his neck.
His eyes follow her backside as she goes, lingering a little too long. When his gaze meets mine, watching him, he quickly looks away.
Why does he seem so familiar with that servant?
None of this makes sense to me. These slaves don't act like slaves at all. They don't seem burdened or downtrodden like the ones in the capital. They look relaxed. Happy.
Stephany, the wolfkin, smiles as she places a plate in front of me, then tosses my already messy hair with a playful swipe of her hand.
"You're a cute one," she coos before walking away with a bounce in her step.
"Very good," Lord Griswald says warmly. "Good to see you as always, Gavin. And I'm pleased to finally meet you, Prince Ren, as well as your esteemed attendant, Lady Willow. Honestly, I was surprised when I received your request for a meeting."
"You were very kind to extend us an invitation, my lord," Lady Willow replies politely, then glances at me with a small nod.
I straighten up, realizing I'm supposed to respond, but my focus drifts as the servants begin serving food onto our plates from polished silver dishes. The foxkin leans forward to place a thick cut of steak and several slices of correl root in front of me. Her tail flicks side to side as she works.
I know I should offer Lord Griswald a respectful greeting. But the thought is swallowed by the question burning in my chest.
"Lord Griswald, it's nice to meet you… but what kind of slave collars are your servants wearing? And why are they so…"
"Happy?" Lord Griswald offers with a knowing smile.
"Yes."
"Well, young prince," he begins, leaning back in his chair, "I believe slavery is an unforgivable violation of a person's rights. And I believe that non-human races are just as much persons as humans."
His words stun me. I agree completely, but hearing such a bold stance from one of Arcadia's great noble families is unexpected.
"Damn right!" Gavin adds with enthusiasm, slapping the table hard enough to rattle the plates and silverware. "I know it's not a popular opinion in the kingdom, but it's the truth."
My opinion of Gavin shifts a little. Maybe there's more to him than I thought.
"But, sir," I say, gesturing around the room, "you own slaves."
Something mournful flickers behind his eyes, and his smile holds no humor. It feels as though Lord Griswald is burdened by regrets he does not voice.
"My servants' collars carry only protective enchantments, young prince," he says. "They aren't bound by magic, nor are they threatened with pain or death if they disobey or choose to leave. They wear them by choice."
As if to demonstrate, an elf with long silver hair and sparkling blue eyes standing near Griswald smiles and unclasps her collar with ease. She holds it up for us to see. The way she playfully dangles it between two delicate fingers, grinning all the while, tells me everything I need to know about how she is treated.
"Those collars indicate that these individuals are under my protection," Griswald explains. "Slavers in Arcadia wouldn't dare harass or harm one of my servants."
"They stay because they want to," he continues. "And they are free to leave whenever they choose. My household is their refuge, not their prison."
"That's amazing!" I say, leaning forward in my chair. "I think slavery is really bad too. I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks that."
"I'm even happier to hear that you feel that way, my prince," Lord Griswald replies with a chuckle. "Perhaps there is a bright future for this kingdom after all."
"All the people in your domain seem to have jobs and can make a living," I say as another plate with a fruit tart is placed in front of me. "Is that because you don't use slaves for labor?"
"Correct. My, you're quite insightful for someone so young, Prince Ren."
"Master Griswald," the elf servant beside him interjects gently, her voice carrying a hint of humor, "there will be plenty of time to talk about how kind and generous you are, but perhaps you should eat before the food gets cold."
"Right you are, Silfy," Griswald says with a chuckle, picking up his fork. "Please, everyone, eat up. My chef is a miracle worker with food. It would be a crime to let their blessings go cold."
His servants are confident enough to speak their minds, and he clearly respects them. That exchange tells me everything I need to know about him.
We begin eating. The food is incredible, even better than Lady Willow's cooking, though I'd never tell her that. Lady Willow takes small bites, but I know she's only eating to be polite.
"So," Griswald says between bites of steak, "what was it you wanted to discuss, Lady Willow?"
"We wanted permission to harvest medicinal herbs from the forested area at the edge of your domain," she replies, her tone matter-of-fact, almost bored.
"What... that's all?" Griswald asks, laughing heartily. "Of course! Feel free to pull as many weeds from my forests as you like. Honestly, I'm glad you came to visit, but you could have just sent a letter."
All of a sudden, I get the distinct feeling that Lady Willow's real reason for visiting isn't just to ask permission for herb gathering.
As we continue our dinner, I learn a great deal more about Lord Griswald and Captain Gavin. Griswald's territory is one of the most prosperous and productive in the kingdom, a testament to his good management and his refusal to rely on slave labor. Instead, he buys slaves only to free them, offering jobs, housing, and fair wages.
Though he regrets he can't save everyone, the loyalty and affection his servants show him speak volumes about the respect they hold for their master.
With plates emptied and bellies full, the mood turns lighthearted as Gavin and Griswald begin swapping humorous and heroic war stories from their years of service together. Gavin's booming laughter fills the hall as he recounts one particularly daring escapade that ended with Griswald falling into a swamp to escape a demon ambush.
The servants, having finished their duties, join us at the table to listen. Even the dainty foxkin woman who had served Gavin earlier perches herself on his knee, laughing along with the tales. Gavin is clearly a regular visitor here. The servants know him well and seem genuinely fond of him.
Captain Gavin, it turns out, had earned a minor noble title as a baronet and was appointed head of the castle guard at just eighteen, thanks to his heroic exploits during the wars against the demon nation of Draemor.
As the evening winds down and the sun dips low on the horizon, I speak up, my voice cutting through the warm hum of conversation.
"Lord Griswald, sir, I noticed a certain area of your farmland looks sickly. Do you know why?"
The joyful expression on Lord Griswald's face fades into one of frustration.
"Actually, no," he admits with a heavy sigh. "It started about an arc ago with one small patch of crops withering. Since then, the affected area has been steadily growing."
"We've tried everything we can think of," he continues, his tone resigned. "We've had mages attempt to revitalize the plants, renew the soil, even lift any curses that might have been placed on the land. Some of those methods worked for a short time. The crops would spring back to life for a while, but by the next morning, they were withered again."
"I know what's wrong with your crops," I say with a confident smile. "And I can fix them for you."
The room falls into an awkward silence as everyone except Lady Willow stares at me in surprise. Griswald's eyes narrow slightly, his skepticism plain, while Gavin folds his arms and raises an eyebrow.
"You know…" I add, hesitating under their gaze, "if you want, I could remove what's causing your crops to wither."
Gavin breaks the silence with a chuckle. "What do you know about farming, boy?" he asks, his voice amused but not unkind. "This is probably the first farmland you've ever seen."
Lord Griswald sighs, rubbing his beard thoughtfully. "I have to agree with Gavin. It's hard to believe you diagnosed the problem just by passing the fields on your way in. But we've tried everything else. At this point, we're looking at losing a large portion of the harvest. So, by all means, let's see what you can do."
With that, the four of us—Lady Willow, Gavin, Griswald, and I—depart the manor. As we thank the servants for the wonderful meal and service, Silfy hurries over with a thick fur cloak for Griswald, replacing his cape. She fusses over him like a mother sending her child out to play, her parting words a gentle, "Stay warm and be safe."
The other servants gather at the door, waving goodbye as we climb into the carriage.
The ride is brief, and I direct the driver to stop near the center of the affected area. As we step out, I see a desolate patch of earth stretched before us, lifeless and dry. In my mind, I overlay the aerial view I saw earlier through my bird puppet. From above, the withering follows a distinct spiral pattern, like the coils of a massive snake.
From my studies of the bestiary, I remember an entry about a monster that matches this pattern. A giant subterranean creature, it lays its eggs beneath verdant fields, feeding its larvae by siphoning the life force from the surrounding plants. As the larva grows, the area of decay spreads outward in a spiral.
"What you're dealing with here isn't a blight or a curse," I begin, drawing curious looks from Gavin and Griswald. "There's a monster coiled beneath our feet, feeding off your land. Its egg hatched about an arc ago, and it's been growing ever since. Right now, it's still a juvenile, so we have a chance to kill it. But if we wait much longer, it'll get bigger and a lot more dangerous."
"It's a the Dreadcoil." I announce excitedly.
"A Dreadcoil?" Griswald repeats, his brow furrowing. "Those are native to Fuketsujin, a thousand miles from here."
"Which is probably why no one recognized the signs."
"It's still a baby, then," Gavin says thoughtfully. "This should be easy."
That's not what the word juvenile means.
"All we need to do is pull the worm from the ground with a bit of earth magic," I explain. "It should still be sluggish and slow to react since it's not fully developed."
"Small problem," Griswald says, folding his arms. "Gavin isn't a mage, and I've got a fire affinity, not earth."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lady Willow turn her head and roll her eyes. She's told me before that only novice magic users worry about so-called "type affinities."
"Don't worry, I'll handle it."
"You?" Griswald scoffs, raising a skeptical brow. "You're five years old. You expect me to believe you can use earth magic strong enough to pull a monster out of the ground?"
Rather than argue, I decide it's easier to show them.
I extend my hand and channel mana into the soil beneath us. I picture it spreading through the earth, wrapping around the worm like a net, becoming part of the ground itself. Once I feel the connection, I think the incantation to part the soil above the creature and push from below, forcing the Dreadcoil toward the surface.
The ground rumbles as the earth parts, and a massive, slimy creature erupts from the soil. Gavin and Griswald stumble back in shock, while the carriage driver screams, tumbles from his seat, and sprints away.
Gavin's massive sword is in his hands in an instant, gleaming in the fading light. His face is stone cold, his eyes locked on the creature with singular focus.
Lady Willow, meanwhile, stands perfectly calm, her expression bored, as if this is just another tedious item on her agenda.
The worm rises in its full, terrifying form. It is forty feet long, its slimy body dripping with mucus, and nearly five feet in diameter. Its head is a gaping, circular mouth lined with spiraling rows of razor-sharp teeth, each one designed to shred prey as it is dragged into the black abyss of its throat.
"That's a baby?" Gavin mutters darkly. He begins casting enhancement magic on himself, speaking each spell aloud.
"Iron Skin. Lion's Heart. Thought Acceleration. Diamond Edge. Enhance Speed."
His armor and sword glow faintly as the enchantments take hold, surrounding him in a golden aura.
"Fire Lance!" Griswald shouts, materializing a blazing spear of fire before him and launching it toward the worm. With a speed and agility I did not expect, the creature dodges the fiery bolt and lunges straight at me.
Panic surges through me. Reflexively, I cast a barrier spell just in time.
The beast's massive maw slams into the translucent shield with a thunderous crash. The impact sends a shockwave through the air and shakes the ground beneath our feet. It presses against the barrier, its spiraling teeth screeching as they grind across the surface.
My heart pounds, my hands tremble, my breath catches. The collision tears through my mana, leaving me dizzy, my knees buckling beneath me. I gasp for breath as the worm rears back for another strike, its focus locked on me.
Why is it targeting me? What do I do?
The worm lunges again, its massive, razor-filled mouth hurtling toward me. My mana is nearly gone, and I know my barrier won't survive a second hit. I freeze, my mind blank. Its grotesque maw fills my vision.
Is this it? Is this how I die?
Just as the worm's mouth is about to close around me, Lady Willow appears in front of me, her movement impossibly fast. With a flick of her hand, she casts her own barrier, far stronger than mine. The worm slams into it with a deafening crash. Its flesh sizzles and smokes where it touches her shield.
Before it can recoil, Gavin reaches it with inhuman speed.His massive frame belies a startling agility as he darts around the worm. His blade slices deep into its side. Blood sprays in torrents as he runs the length of the creature, cutting it from head to tail in a single, precise motion.
The worm convulses, split in two, and collapses in a heap of gore.
Gavin stands at the center of the mess, drenched in blood but grinning triumphantly.
"Now that's how you handle a baby."
There is so much wrong with that statement.
Lady Willow lowers her barrier and turns to me with a calm expression.
"You did well, young master," she says, more matter-of-fact than congratulatory.
I sink to the ground, trembling. A rotted stench fills the air, and the sight of the worm's grotesque, bisected corpse makes my throat convulse. That thing almost killed me. I thought I could handle it. But I didn't understand.
I still have so much to learn, and so far to go, if I want to survive in this dangerous world.
Willow gently lifts me off the ground, cradling me against her chest with surprising tenderness.
"Is the young master all right?" Lord Griswald asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.
"He's fine," Lady Willow replies as she carries me back to the carriage. "Just a bit drained of mana. He'll recover with some rest."
That was kind of her to say, but the truth is I'm not just exhausted. I'm shaken to my core. The monster was far more terrifying in real life than it ever seemed in the pages of a book.
"I'm okay too, by the way," Gavin adds, trying—and failing—to wipe off the overwhelming stench and gore that covers him from head to toe.
"I'm very impressed by the boy," I hear Griswald say as I struggle to keep my eyes open. "Not only did he identify what was destroying our crops, but he saved my lands from a monster that could have caused even more destruction. He's done a great service for my domain."
"He is a very talented boy," Lady Willow says with quiet pride as she carries me into the carriage.
She settles me onto the seat beside her, laying my head in her lap. Her fingers brush through my hair in slow, soothing motions, and I feel some of the tension begin to ease. Griswald steps into the carriage next.
Captain Gavin moves to follow, but Griswald holds up a hand.
"Not you, Gavin," he says firmly. "I don't want you making a mess of the carriage. You're riding on the outside."
"This is the thanks I get?" Gavin grumbles, throwing up his hands in mock frustration. "I just saved everyone here!"
"Exactly. And we thank you by letting you enjoy the fresh air," Griswald replies.
Gavin mutters something under his breath but obeys, climbing up onto the driver's bench.
"I guess I'm driving?" he adds with confusion.
The carriage begins to move, and I feel myself drifting off. The last thought that flickers through my mind is of Captain Gavin. His enhancement magic and swordsmanship during the fight were astonishing, especially for someone who isn't a mage.
I had no idea someone with so little magical capacity could use it so efficiently. From what I could sense, Gavin has about the same mana reserves as me, yet he wields it with precision and discipline.
I need to have him train me.